


Adventures in Babysitting

by WinterRose527



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, Seriously none, if you spot canon it is there by accident, it has no place here, no canon to be found
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 08:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18070397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterRose527/pseuds/WinterRose527
Summary: It was all Rickon's fault, really.





	Adventures in Babysitting

He would have to say, without a shadow of a doubt, that it was all Rickon’s fault.

 

It wasn’t like him to blame his younger siblings for things. In fact, he often tried to shield them from his parents’ wrath - like when Arya had gotten suspended from school for fighting a bully picking on Bran or when Sansa had gotten caught sneaking in half-drunk over the summer. In this case though, he felt it was imperative to blame Rickon.

 

You see the thing was, Rickon was only six, which meant that he required a babysitter. The issue was, Rickon didn’t like babysitters. Well, he didn’t like any babysitters other than Myrcella Baratheon.

 

She was seventeen and by all accounts the love of Rickon’s young life. He’d been mad for her ever since he was a baby, always sleeping happily in her eleven year old arms as she cooed down at him.

 

It had never let up either. Ella, as everyone called her and his sister Sansa were best friends, and Robb was pretty sure Rickon learned to walk just to make it over to whatever side of the room she was on.

 

So that was why, every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon when his mother had a meeting at her foundation, Ella came over to watch Rickon. Even when Robb was home on his Thanksgiving break from college, because he had work to do.

 

And okay, because _maybe_ he hadn’t told his mother not to have her come.

 

She’d shown up with Rickon after school on Tuesday, dressed like an autumnal daydream in a short maroon suede skirt with tights and ankle boots and a big fuzzy sweater. She was listening to what he said as the dogs went to greet them, nodding along and _hmming_ as though whatever he was saying made a whole lot of sense.

 

“Robb!,” Rickon cried when he saw him.

 

“Hey Rick,” he said, mussing his hair and taking his backpack from Ella.

 

“Hey Robb,” she said sweetly.

 

It was the way she said everything. The way she did everything.

 

“Hi Ella,” he said back, staring a little longer at her than he usually allowed himself to.

 

He’d only been away at school for a few months, but she’d changed somehow. He couldn’t really tell what it was, she had the same lovely features, the same warm laugh, the same quick mind. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was… well, something different about her.

 

 

“We were just going to bake some cookies,” she informed him, then offered,“I’ll save you some cookie dough?”

 

“Oh… yeah…thanks…,” he said, and watched as she held her hand out for Rickon, who placed his happily in hers. They seemed so happy to be together, and he didn’t want to intrude, but he also didn’t want to miss out on their company either. Rickon was the baby of the brood, but he’d seemed to grow up so much in the past few months, and well Ella, was… Ella, so he couldn’t help asking, “Do you guys need help?”

 

“I get to crack the eggs though,” Rickon said, “You promised didn’t you Lelly?”

 

“I did promise,” Ella said solemnly, as though it was an oath forged on the field of battle and turned to him ruefully and asked, “Are you still interested?”

 

_Yeah, sweetheart, that’s a pretty safe bet._

 

He merely nodded and the three of them went into the kitchen. It was a short week for her, so he knew she wouldn’t have much work, otherwise he might have offered for her to leave, or at least go into his dad’s study and do it.

 

As it was though, they had a free afternoon and a house to themselves, discounting one six year old who was currently holding onto Ella’s thigh.

 

“Alright Little Wolf,” she said, bending down, “We have got to get you an apron,” she said, tugging up the sleeves of his shirt so they wouldn’t get messy.

 

“Lelly I don’t want to wear one, they’re for _girls_ ,” Rickon argued, placing his forehead against hers to soften the blow.

 

“That’s horseshit,” Robb said and Ella glared at him for cursing in front of his little brother. He gave her an _oh shit_ expression and went to pull out a bunch of aprons which put a smile back on her face, “ _I_ am going to wear one, am I a girl?”

 

He picked out the frilliest one he could find, both to prove a point and also to make Ella’s grin widen, which it did. He tied it around himself and held out one to Rickon who took it begrudgingly, turning so Ella could tie it for him.

 

Ella stood up and picked one up, wrapping the strings around herself and then tying it in the front because they were too long for her. The hem of her skirt didn’t make it past the hem of the apron and her legs looked so long and toned in her black tights that he wanted to grab them just like Rickon had.

 

_You are such a pervert._

 

“Okay Little Wolf,” she said, completely oblivious to the stroke he was having, “Robb’s going to sit you up here while I get out the ingredients. But what is the _single most important thing I’ve ever told you_?”

 

“No touching the oven. Or hot cookie sheets. Or knives,” Rickon recited dutifully and she grinned at him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

 

The love went both ways with these two. He still remembered when Ella had gotten in a car accident late last fall and he’d brought Rickon with him to visit her in the hospital. He’d picked her wildflowers and she’d let him crawl up into bed with her, knowing how scared he was. She held him to her like a stuffed animal though, mouthing _thank you_ to Robb over his head as a single tear fell down her cheek.

 

Robb grimaced, he didn’t like to think about that. She’d been lucky, no internal bleeding or serious injuries, but he’d never forget Sansa calling him crying with the news.

 

He cleared his throat and picked Rickon up and sat him at the island.

 

“What do you boys want?,” Ella asked from the pantry, “Chocolate chip or sugar?”

 

“Chocolate chip,” they said in unison.

 

Rickon turned to him with a shocked and elated smile, and Robb held his hand up for him to high five.

 

Ella came out piled high with ingredients and he stepped forward to grab the flour and sugar from her. Their hands brushed and he felt a jolt and wanted to curse himself for being such a loser. She blushed though too and smiled shyly, putting the vanilla and baking soda on the island as well before going to turn on the oven.

 

She pulled out the rest of the ingredients, as well as measuring cups and bowls and Robb stood there hopelessly watching her. This was his kitchen but she knew it far better than him.

 

“She doesn’t need a recipe,” Rickon whispered, “She’s like a witch.”

 

“A witch?,” he asked incredulously.

 

There was nothing remotely witchy about Ella Baratheon. Bewitching maybe.

 

_Seriously, you are such a loser._

 

Ella giggled, “We made a special Halloween pooootion last month, didn’t we Little Wolf?”

 

“Yeah! It was pumpkin flavored!,” Rickon exclaimed and Robb grinned at his enthusiasm.

 

They all set about making the cookie dough. Which really meant that Ella started making the cookie dough and periodically gave him and Rickon very small, very _specific_ tasks. He tried not to be offended that she explained things as carefully to him as she did Rickon. Though in her defence, he had very nearly swapped the amounts for sugar and salt.

 

As Ella promised, Rickon got to crack the eggs and it only took them a few minutes to pick out the egg shells that fell in the bowl.

 

Ella gave him the _very special task_ of pouring the chocolate chips in the bowl and mixing it as she greased the cookie sheets.

 

He stuck his finger in the bowl and tasted the dough, trying to fight the urge to moan it was so good. His mom was a great cook, but Sansa did all the baking. Robb had to admit that Ella had even her beat.

 

Though he’d probably eat powdered sugared covered manure if she offered it to him.

 

“What did you just do?,” she asked with narrowed eyes.

 

“Nothing,” he feigned innocence.

 

“You sneaked!,” she accused with a grin. “Rickon, I think retribution is in order.”

 

“Retri-,” he started but stopped when he got a face full of flour.

 

“Uh oh,” Rickon said.

 

Ella’s eyebrows were practically at her hairline as though she couldn’t believe that she had done that.

 

“You,” he said, flour sputtering out, “Are so dead.”

 

“RUN ELLA RUN!,” Rickon shouted.

 

She was a quick little thing, the best sprinter in her year, but she was no match for his longer stride and he got to her in a moment. He grabbed her by the waist, picking her up and holding her to him as he rubbed flour in her face.

 

“Robb!,” she protested laughing.

 

She wiggled to get out of his grasp, which honestly only made him want to hold onto her more. Especially with the way her body was moving against his as she did.

 

“I’ll protect you Ella!,” Rickon called.

 

His little brother chucked flour at him, but given that he was still holding Ella it fell in a cloud onto them both.

 

Rickon went to grab more and ended tipped over the sugar, managing to get it all over himself in the process.

 

“Oh my god,” Ella giggled, stepping out of Robb’s arms and crossing to Rickon, “Little Wolf you’re a mess!”

 

“It’s sticky,” he complained, showing them his hands so they could see the way the grains of sugar had started disintegrating. He’d even got some in his hair.

 

“The dough needs to chill,” Ella said, and turned to Rickon and said, “And you need to shower!”

 

“I’ll take him up,” Robb offered and went over to pick up Rickon and take him upstairs.

 

He brought him and got him settled in the shower, making sure that the water temperature was to his _exact_ specifications and after removing the flour from his face, went out into the hall to wait for him.

 

Ella came upstairs and found him there. She’d removed the apron and wiped the flour off her face as well.

 

“So,” she said, leaning against the wall, “Bet things don’t get this crazy at school…”

 

“Not even close,” he said with a grin and she gave him a smile but it only lasted for a moment.

 

“It’s nice,” she told him, glancing at him briefly, “Having you back. Not that - it’s just nice you being here.”

 

“I miss it here,” he told her honestly, though not completely honestly because he wanted to tell her that he missed her. Instead he just said, “I miss it here all the time.”

 

“Oh please,” she rolled her eyes, “The way you and Jon make it sound it’s like the last days of Valyria.”

 

The first night back he and Jon had snuck Ella and Sansa into one of the local bars and regaled them with tales. The girls had been crying they were laughing so hard, but he knew that he and Jon would have traded all the craziness of college for the happiness of more nights like that one.

 

Even still he chuckled, “Well it is kind of…”

 

“Parties and drinking and girls,” she supplied lightly.

 

“Parties and drinking,” he nodded.

 

“And girls?,” she prompted. He glanced at her and she shrugged, “I’ve seen your instagram stories.”

 

He tried not to smile at that, but he couldn’t stop himself so he rubbed his jaw. He recognised that tone, it was the same one he’d used when he’d heard about Trystane last year. Hers was sweeter than his, softer, but it was the tone of jealousy all the same.

 

“There are girls there,” he allowed, “But I’ve run into this issue again and again, at every party. In classes. In my dorm.”

 

“Problem?,” she asked, looking at him in concern. Even jealousy didn’t temper her kindness.

 

He’d spent three months without that lovely furrowed brow looking at him like she’d sorely like to help him with whatever is wrong. He’d spent three months watching girls pretending to have the time of their lives and never quite matching the vibrancy she had on an afternoon of baking cookies. He’d spent three months missing her, thinking of her, and now she was here, and with the exception of a six year old in the next room, they were alone.

 

“Yeah, you see, the problem is,” he said as he crossed to her, “None of them are you. So it’s kind of hard to care that they are there at all.”

 

“Robb,” she sighed.

 

“What?,” he teased, “Are you saving yourself for Rickon?”

 

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,” she shook her head, “Please.”

 

“I mean it, Ella,” he promised her, swiping her cheek where she’d missed some flour, “You’re the only girl - the only one who I trust to look out for Sansa as loyally as I would, the only one who makes Jon smile on one of his bad days, the only one Rickon let’s near him after a tantrum, the one that I always looked for on the field, or at a party, the one who I have thought of every night I’ve been away, you’re the - well you’re just the only girl in the whole world as far as I’m concerned.”

 

“Robb,” she laughed, tugging him by his sweater, “Keep talking. Please keep talking.”

 

 

He grinned down at her and tilted her face up to his, “Do you want to hear about the first time I knew?,” he asked her and she nodded, “Okay, well we were at this party in the woo-“

 

He didn’t get the rest of the story out because she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. He groaned because _finally_ and he wrapped one of his arms around her back, pulling her against him.

 

“ROBBBBBB I’M READY TO GET OUTTTTT!,” Rickon called and he and Ella sprung apart as though they’d been scalded.

 

Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were alight and her lips were nearly swollen.

 

“I’ll uh, go get him and um… put him down for his nap?,” he asked.

 

She nodded and then sort of shouted, “COOKIES!” her face went beat red and she said, “I’ll, just go um… put them in.”

 

They stared at one another for a moment longer and then both kind of snapped out of it at the same time and went to their respective activities.

 

He got Rickon dried off and into his pajamas, and in spite of his little brother’s protestations that he was a big boy who didn’t need a nap, his eyelids were drooping before they’d even finished The True Story of the Three Little Pigs.

 

He turned off his light and shut the door and then tried and failed not to sprint down the stairs. He got to the kitchen just as Ella was closing the oven and she turned to look at him.

 

A small smile rested on her lips and he moved to close the distance between them but she stepped backward.

 

“Did I have it wrong?,” he teased, because even as she kept walking backwards there was a small smile on her lips.

 

“No,” she shook her head as he stalked forward, “No you didn’t have it wrong. But I can’t make it too easy for you, can I? Not when there’s all those other girls at college who I’m sure don’t put up much of a fight at all against the likes of you.”

 

He narrowed his eyes at her playfully and she saw his intent a half second before he made it and let out a squeal and ran away. She had a further head start this time and made it all the way into the living room before he caught her and tackled her to the couch.

 

They landed with her on top of him, laughing like children, and he brushed hair off her face. Their laughter tapered off as they looked at one another and they moved towards each other at the same time, their lips meeting in an urgent, long overdue kiss.

 

She felt so good in his arms and he buried one hand in her silky hair and the other arm wrapped around her back holding her close to him. Her legs fell on either side of his until she was straddling him and he couldn’t seem to stop his hand from wandering down and squeezing her pert butt.

 

She sat up and he was afraid that he’d done something wrong, gone too fast, but she pulled him up along with her.

 

She looked at him for a moment and then she buried her hands in his hair and kissed him deeply. All he could do was kiss her back and hold her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder when she kissed his cheek and then down to his neck.

 

He felt like he might go blind when her teeth closed gently around the shell of his earlobe.

 

“Fuck sweetheart I’ve wanted you for so long,” he gasped out, his hand wandering up the back of her sweater to feel her soft skin.

 

She kissed his neck again and said sweetly, “I can’t believe Sansa was right.”

 

He grimaced and pleaded, “Could you um…maybe _not_ talk about my sister while you’re straddling me?”

 

She pulled away and buried her face in her hands, “Oh my god, I’m mortified. Put me out on an iceberg and let me _die_.”

 

He chuckled at her dramatics and peeled her hands away from her face. She looked so deliciously chagrined and he kissed one cheek and then the other and then her nose and her chin and her eyelids and her forehead until she was finally laughing and yet begging him to kiss her lips. He happily obliged and wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again.

 

He went to tug up her sweater but she covered his hands in hers and said, “Robb, Robb, Robb…”

 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he said quickly.

 

“No, it’s okay,” she told him, “I just don’t-“

 

“I get it,” he promised.

 

She looked at him quizzically and said, “But you don’t even know what I was going to say.”

 

“That you’re not ready to have sex…,” he supplied.

 

She grinned ruefully, “Oh, no, I’m ready.”

 

“You are?!!,” he asked.

 

“Yeah I have been for quite some time,” she nodded, “Provided it’s with you. I just don’t want to do it on your parent’s couch. Rickon eats cereal right there,” she pointed to one end of the couch.

 

He couldn’t seem to make the grin on his face get any smaller as he asked, “And um… my bed? Do you have any qualms about that? Some concerns about Grey Wind’s psyche perhaps?”

 

“Oh no,” she shook her head and smiled, “No he’s a very resilient dog.”

 

“Ella,” he chuckled, and then turned serious and cupped her cheek in his hand, “Are you sure? There’s no rush…”

 

She brushed his hair away from his face and her eyes were glistening when she looked into his, “There’s only ever been one boy in the world for me, and when you went away this fall I missed you so badly, and I tried not to think about what you were doing at school and -“

 

“Nothing,” he promised, “There’s been no one, Ella.”

 

“It’s none of my business,” she shook her head, and looked at him with a worried expression, “But I want it to be…now. Because the thing is, Robb, there’s only ever _going_ to be one boy for me and it’s you, it’ll always be you and I really don’t want to wait for forever, I want it to start _now_.”

 

He had never understood the phrase _die of happiness_ until he heard the sweetness of her confession.

 

He cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her again.

 

“Even still, we can wait-“

 

“Oh Robb I want to fuck you, alright? Are you going to make me beg for it?,” she asked stubbornly.

 

“Someday,” he told her darkly, “Someday I will make you beg, until your entire body is screaming for me, but for now…”

 

With that he picked her up and walked her up the central staircase, her legs and arms wrapped around him. He took her into his bedroom and laid her down, and they pulled each other’s clothes off until there was nothing between them.

 

It was a little awkward at first, but they found their way together, and after all there would be more times, so many more.

 

They were laying together, wrapped up in one another when he heard a beeping.

 

“Do you hear that?,” he wondered.

 

She shot out of bed, “The timer! The cookies!”

 

Except that it wasn’t.

 

The timer had gone off around the same time he closed his door. This beeping was the fire alarm. And it had been going off for some time. Which is why the fire department pulled up a few minutes later.

 

They’d already opened the windows and there was no actual fire, no more damage than a destroyed cookie sheet really. That, and his pride considering he was still in his boxers when they started banging on the door.

 

“Son, do you realise you could have had a real situation on your hands?,” one of the firefighters asked, “I mean what could have possessed you to -,” he started but then Ella walked in. She’d redressed and checked on Rickon to make sure his room didn’t have any signs of smoke. The firefighters all turned to look at her and the man speaking to him nodded and said, “Yeah that’ll do it.”

 

Ella blushed and said, “I’m sorry, it was my fault I didn’t hear the timer.”

 

A couple of the firefighters chuckled and Ella buried her face against his arm just as his mother ran in with Sansa and Arya on her heels.

 

“Robb? Ella? Where’s Rickon? Are you alright?,” his mother asked then her brow furrowed, “Why are you in boxers when we have guests in the house?”

 

“Mom I can explain…,” he started, but he trailed off because he really couldn’t.

 

Sansa and Arya were standing there with identical expressions of glee on their faces, meanwhile his mother had steam coming out of her ears.

 

“See the thing is um…,” Ella tried and then looked up at him.

 

They grinned at each other and shook their heads.

 

“Robbert Hoster Stark,” his mother seethed, “We are going to -“

 

“Lelly?,” Rickon called, coming down the stairs, “Are the cookies ready?”

 

“COOKIES!,” he and Ella shouted in tandem.

 

“Yeah you see, the thing is that Rickon wanted cookies,” he tried again, “And then we um… put him down for his nap and…”

 

“Robb why are you in your boxers?,” Rickon asked, and then looked at Ella, “Lelly is your sweater inside out?”

 

So you see, it really was all Rickon’s fault. Ella wouldn’t even have _been_ there if it weren’t for him, and no cookies would have been made, and he might never have gotten a chance to tell her that she was the one, the only one.

 

Robb made sure to blame him at their wedding, and when they had kids and Rickon offered to babysit, he and Ella merely smiled when he asked if sweet little Lyanna Mormont could come help him.

 

Smiled…and banned any and all use of the oven, of course.


End file.
